Really???

So have you ever read something on the web that just riles you up so you slam out a rebuttal comment (or two). But even after you say whatever, this is bs and I'm not thinking about it anymore, you just keep on fuming and posting and fuming?

That's what happened to me yesterday over here. After posting 4 times and really not getting my point across as far as I can tell, I'm resolved not to say anything more. But I'm still fuming, so I think I'll post on my own blog.

Here's the quote that was posted, in case you didn't follow the link above. It's from Diane Ravitch's Book "The Death and Life of the Great American School System: How Testing and Choice Are Undermining Education":

“Do we need neighborhood public schools? I believe we do. The neighborhood school is a place where parents meet to share concerns about their children and the place where they learn the practice of democracy. They create a sense of community among strangers. As we lose neighborhood schools, we lose the one local institution where people congregate and mobilize to solve local problems, where individuals learn to speak up and debate and engage in democratic give-and-take with their neighbors. For more than a century, they have been an essential element of our democratic institutions. We abandon them at our peril.

Business leaders like the idea of turning the schools into a marketplace where the consumer is king. But the problem with the marketplace is that it dissolves communities and replaces them with consumers. Going to school is not the same as going shopping. Parents should not be burdened with locating a suitable school for their child. They should be able to take their child to the neighborhood public school as a matter of course and expect that it has well-educated teachers and a sound educational program.”

Look, I'm all for stronger neighborhoods and better schools. I think a sense of community with everyone is totally critical to raising kids. And by everyone I mean the kids that are "at risk" with sucky parents as well as the super-smart nerds with overly driven parents. That's one of the issues I have with homeschooling. We might not be in our neighborhood school, but economic and social diversity is real in every City School my kids have gone to. Way more than if we had moved to Timonium to solve our school problems with our zoned school.

But really, what planet is this woman from? She's supposed to be an expert in urban schools and she's thinking about democracy in broken neighborhoods, to say nothing of broken schools? There's no democracy in a place where people are afraid to talk to the police even after they see a kid abused by their parents or shot by a rival gang.

There are some neighborhoods in Baltimore where her prattle rings true (I'm thinking Roland Park and Mt. Washington), but those schools are in fine shape so choice and zoning aren't the issue there. Really, the vast majority of kids in Baltimore need an escape from the same-old-same-old of the established social order of their streets, which just carries on in failing neighborhood schools. Democracy? This stratifying social order is more like bondage as far as I can tell.

But really, there's just one sentence from this quote that I want to scream at, and yell at ,and banish from existence - "Parents should not be burdened with locating a suitable school for their child." Really? Parents shouldn't be burdened by the responsibility their kids force on them? Really? That's the whole big deal about being a parent. All of the sudden you need to become responsible. Do some parents fail? Yes; almost all to some degree and it's tragic, but you are responsible. The state can support you, the schools can help you, your community can pitch in, but kids are a burden (and a joy) that you have to handle. Look into schools, figure out who their friends are, make rules that they hate, go to PTA and teacher conferences. It's what makes you a parent.

I'm shaking my head in disgust. This is the expert that fights to save our schools. Really? Baltimore is making progress and these platitudes make people who have no experience in the reality of City Schools think they know the real answer. Really? Please.

Special Hockey International Tournament

So I promised a post about this Spring's hockey tournament when we got back. Clearly, I'm running a little late, but at least this post came before summer.

Msk and I went to Boston for the Special Hockey tournament. Two years ago we went to Buffalo for a tournament, but this year was very different.

Two years ago I was tying to will msk to not skate into the net. I was hoping he could pull his attention away from the count-down timer. He skated fine, but comprehension of the point of the game was very low. Not that I'm complaining - I was thrilled, if a little nervous, that he was participating.

This year, along with a growth spurt, msk seems to finally want to get praise. This might seem like a strange concept to some, but compliments in the past have never been a motivator for him. You wouldn't believe how hard this makes it to encourage (or discourage) behaviors. Up to now it's all been about what msk wanted to do by himself, for himself. But this year he scored two goals and after getting praised he repeated to himself "I'm a good hockey player." It's the kind of moment that chokes me up even months later.

Then, add in the freeing feeling of being with people who were happy to cut msk some slack if he melted down or couldn't stand still waiting in line. No angry glares when he threw his hockey bag down the stairs. You get used to the stares to the point that you forget what it feels like to just relax. And everybody cheers for everybody, because even the simplest task is someone's major milestone. So many smiles.

He grows more mature and I grow more accepting. It was really a quite wonderful five days.

Far, far away

So, it's been 17 years since hubby and I have spent a night together without one or more of our kids under the same roof. Yes, that's the age of the oldest. In a week we'll be breaking that streak. I've got a business trip abroad and instead of turning them down we're working on a plan to leave the kids in Bmore and use the passports for 8 days.

Can I say I am nervous beyond belief? Msk has never spent a night away from at least one parent. The autism waiver is making this possible. We have respite hours and the behavioralist that works with msk is going to help us out. But still... I worry.

But opportunities like this come around... well really, hardly ever. And I want my job to think of me as a "team player" - single income families need to stay employed. And hubby needs a total break.

So I try to get these boxes to cooperate and hubby looks into sights, restaurants and music venues, and both of us work on saying merci.

And I try not to worry.

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Mother's Day 2011

So what is it to be a mother this year? Is it dealing with a boy who has feet the same size as mine and who's suddenly changing voice sounds like a stranger?


Is it having a kid who is within spitting distance of college, but still seems like that toddler that was constantly getting into stuff?


Is it having a mother who is 88 years old, who can still make me feel like a teen when I'm almost 50 years old?



Is it the chaos of a night out at the BSO and scouts and D&D and hockey and laundry and groceries and family and an SAT and house cleaning and crazy neighbors and so much you can't keep track?

Guess so... at least that's what it is for me :-)

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Goal!!!

I need to take the time to write a post about the Special Hockey International Tournament that msk and I went to, but for now I just want to share a picture.

When is Spring Break not a break?

Somehow, this spring break has been totally not a break this year. On the agenda:

• Projects for both high school students


• Frantic AP cramming, at least for the Junior


• Visiting colleges with the Junior, both local and one about 3 hours away, that with traffic took 8 hours back and forth and then 5 hours touring...very long day


• Too much work and not enough vacation time for me to take more than a day or two off
  

So, tomorrow I go back to work and along with not going any place (besides the previously mentioned college) I haven't done any spring cleaning and I haven't figured out the summer plans for either my special needs kid or my soon to be high school senior.

Blah!

The pain of "high functioning" terminology

Every time I read something about "high functioning" I cringe. Autism really is a spectrum and I don't think it makes sense to come up with some arbitrary dividing line. What exactly does high functioning mean? If we're talking about verbal and non-verbal and limited words let’s say that. If we’re talking about kids that are in inclusive education (with or without an aide) or separate classrooms or in a separate school, let’s say that. If we're talking academic achievement or whatever, let's just say it directly.

My son has very limited verbal abilities. He reads and does math very well. He goes to a mainstream school in a regular classroom with a one-on-one aide. He gets some academics in a special education classroom. He receives a lot of support through Maryland's Autism Waiver because he (easily) meets the definition of institutional level of disability (more definition here). I refuse to label him as "low functioning" but I will say he is significantly affected by autism.

I don't want to sound cranky, I just feel like every mention of "high functioning" is exclusionary and pushes the autism community apart.

This post is pretty much a copy of a comment I made on this post on "Life Is A Spectrum". The image above show's msk's hands. If you ask me what autism looks like, one answer is the way you hold your hands. I love the way msk holds his hands, by the way.

Spread the Word

So today's the day. The day to take the pledge to stop using the R-word. I try not to act like I know how msk feels if he doesn't tell me (verbally or non-verbally) how he feels. Because of that I'm not going to tell you he feels belittled or demeaned when a classmate refers to him as a "retard" or the special ed class as the "retard class". I can tell you that this happens too often and it makes me question the success of inclusion.

Then I remember the way kids in msk's class last year stood up for him when other kids were picking on him. I remember how deeply they came to know him and respect him. It may be hard, but minds and hearts are being changed and the r-word turns to respect... little by little.

I took the pledge. I hope you will too.

Complexities

It seems like people are very happy to generalize about “good parents” and “bad parents”, but in my experience it’s quite a bit murkier. So here’s a replay of the past weekend’s situation and if anyone wants to comment, they can tell me if my actions qualify me for the good or bad tag. Honestly, beyond saying that I tried, I’ve got no idea.

So yesterday marked the first kid birthday of the year as HSS@14 became HSS@15. This is the year where I will be living with three teenagers, although I’m not there yet. I had asked the birthday child a week and a half ago if she wanted to do something for her birthday. I know some friends from years past, but as I’m never really sure about the complexities of teenage friendships, I didn’t make any suggestions. I got a mumbled “I don’t know” for an answer. I decided that since I didn’t really want the complexity of figuring it out, I wouldn’t push the issue. I’m guessing this is a point in the bad parent column.

Thursday evening HSS@14 asked if she could go to a sleep over at a friend’s house. I knew this would add complexity to our already complicated weekend, but it seemed like the least I could do to acknowledge her birthday. I went over what would be happening that weekend with her – sleep over, an all afternoon Girl Scout event, Sunday’s church (I may be an atheist, but if she wants to go to church I support her), birthday dinner with the family… there wasn’t too much time to get her homework done, but she assured me she didn’t have too much to do.

I didn't see her after I left for work Friday morning until I picked her up around noon on Saturday. After a very hectic Saturday afternoon of Scout activities, she was playing some sort of Sims game on the Wii Saturday evening. I gently said something about homework, but I didn’t want to push the issue. I had hoped that she got started Saturday evening, but I think that after playing on the Wii she spent too many hours on-line writing/reading fan fiction. Honestly, I needed an evening break on Saturday and after falling asleep in front of the TV I went to bed early without tromping up to the attic to see what was going on. Another mark in the bad parent column.

Sunday morning was not the best with sleep deprivation leading to tears when some computer/technology issues were brought up (falling asleep on the netbook without plugging it in to charge is a battery killer). It was a birthday so I worked to smooth over the issue and get homework started on Sunday around 1 or so. Good parent points, maybe?

I checked that homework was in progress fairly often without hovering over her shoulder Sunday afternoon. After her family birthday dinner & cake, I was assured there wasn’t too much homework left to finish up. I was attempting to get laundry done before the start of the week, so I left it at that. I re-iterated that I needed to go over the homework assignments before bed. I knew she was running late, but it felt heartless to get into one of those discussions on her birthday. By the time I was ready for bed all lights were off in the attic and it seemed wrong to wake a sleep deprived birthday girl to check on homework status.

I decided that I would wake her early on Monday, which I did. Even with an extra 15minutes she was late coming down with her backpack. She couldn’t find her homework assignment sheet. She assured me she had all her homework done. I couldn’t check it versus her assignments, so I don’t really know. I made sure her new assignment sheet for the day was in her folder along with her homework. I spoke fairly sternly about how we keep repeating the same homework disaster. I stopped before she started to cry – doesn’t take much for HSS@15 to cry, I’m telling you.

Good parent, bad parent, what should I do differently, when should I let personal responsibility for a 15 year old kick in? I’m at a loss, so maybe you can tell me.

Saturday Night's Alright...

So I knew I had booked Saturday kind of full, but really, what choice do you have? Msk is a man of routines, so Saturday morning means practice with his Special Hockey team - the Baltimore Saints. This Saturday was the last Saturday in the build season of First Robotics season, so the high school students, me, and probably hubbie needed to spend some time in the robotics lab in said high school. Roller skating is an every Saturday routine for msk and behavior-dude. I had gotten tickets for a hockey fundraising game in the evening. Msk would play a single period, then he and I and msk's behavioralist (b-d) and b-d's significant other and her autistic client would watch a Hockey 4 Hope game between Caps alumni and police/firemen.

It was a packed day. I had not slept too well in anticipation, but reality was different.

I dropped the HSS (high school students) off at 9:00 and waited for the coach to open the door. Then it was off to hockey practice. The goal for the day was to avoid skating into the net during practice. Msk is totally drawn into enclosed spaces. A hockey goal and dog's crates seem to suck him in. We had worked out a plan where he could go in before and after practice, but not during practice. This seemed to work pretty well, with him shooting lots of goals and avoiding skating into the net - much to the goalies' relief. Unfortunately, after a correction (msk has a hard time with corrections) he skated into the goal two times. Still, he did a lot better than last week.

Next stop was picking up b-d and dropping him and msk off at the roller skating rink. Because of the evening's hockey game they were going to have to cut an hour off of roller skating. Unfortunately, this meant missing the birthday song routine (there are always lots of birthday parties on Saturday afternoon at this rink). Msk started getting upset, but I knew that b-d would handle it better than I could so I headed back to the robotics lab.

The stress was turning up at robotics, and I tried to figure out what I could do to help out after I had checked in with my HSS. Not long after I got a call from the Baltimore County police. My pulse started racing. "Can you describe your son?" I started to flip out with worry. Eventually I found out that someone had decided to call the police because msk was upset.

One of the joys of having a significantly autistic kid is that everybody seems to notice his behaviors and come up with a story that matches their judgement. With me, it's usually a matter of "why don't you discipline that child?" With b-d, who is a 6'3" African American male, the question turns into "Why are you kidnapping that cute little white boy?" My husband has put up with the sexism that says men shouldn't be around children - he's a stay at home dad. Add to that the whole racism of our society...

Anyway, b-d was pretty upset and my heart was still racing from images of msk getting hurt. Luckily, msk had calmed down by the time the cops got there and he didn't flip out. I felt pretty bad, but figured the day would get better.

The robot had other ideas. A shaft connection cracked and motors were overheating. It started to seem a lot like the stress of work with hard deadlines looming. It was getting towards the time I needed to leave so I called my husband. I explained that I was leaving our daughters and that he should plan on coming to help out as well as pick them up.

I quickly drove from the high school to the roller rink. Msk was fine (he had listened to the you tube of the birthday song). B-d was pretty bummed. A mixture of anger over racism and defensiveness towards msk's right to be upset if he is upset. We drove home to meet-up with b-d's significant other and her client to drive to the evening's hockey game. A little venting and listening to a Gil Scott Heron CD and everybody seemed to be ok.

We started driving to Laurel. The wind was fierce and I noticed some strange clouds after we drove through the Harbor Tunnel. After a while the traffic got weird and turned into stop and go. We were early so I didn't think much of it. Even when they forced us off I-95 I figured even if we were a little late everyone else would be too.

A car with two autistic young men could be a disaster, but with two behaviorists, an iPad and an iPod touch, we did fine. We eventually got to the road that the ice rink was on (phones with GPS are great!) only to be told the rink was closed.

We found a nearby Outback and had a uniquely autistic dinner. Not long after getting home husband arrived with the HSS. The robot was still being difficult, but better.

A long, strange day was over. I'm not sure if there's any point to this post. Sorry, guess I'm just rambling.

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